Bella Luna
by Greentulip
Summary: "What will you do if you find out that you only have three months to live?" he questioned. "Why are you asking me this?" she peered at him curiously. "Because I need some ideas."
1. Prologue

Hello everyone! This is Greentulip with another story! Woohoo!

_Please don't boo me. _

Anywho, this is a story that's been running around my head for a few days now. I have a lot of stories that I want to write, but I have no idea how to put my thoughts into words! Hmmm, so with this story, I hope my creative juices will start flowing again.

And, for those of you who are interested about what's happening with Picture Perfect:

I'm going to revise it. I'm sorry, but I hope you understand. (More details at the bottom!)

With that said, do enjoy.

**DISCLAIMED.**

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><p><em>'She has always been the light,'<em> he mused quietly, while raising a hand over his face to shield his eyes from the light streaming through the leafy curtains of the willow tree that was shrouding him protectively.

_Warm… _

He was staring at the back of his hand, basking in the warmth of the sun.

_Comforting…_

'How long has it been..?' He thought as his arm dropped unceremoniously to the ground beside him.

_Vivid…_

His fingers idly combed through the grass while he let his eyelids flutter to a close.

_Clear…_

'A beacon always lit to find my way home.'

**_'What happened?'_**

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><p>Well, that concludes my prologue for <em>'Bella Luna' <em>

Pretty short, eh?

Picture Perfect update: The reason I'm revising it is because I came to a conclusion that I didn't know where to direct the story line! Hahaha, but fear not, for I do know where I'm going now. Though, that be said, the conclusion will have different turns from the current story line for I am quite confused with some elements of the pre-revised version, like:

Haven't you ever wondered how the hell Nonoko and Anna were able to stay on their own?

How about, how my portrayal of the characters are dull, flat, and stereotypical cliches?

What was the point of the OCs when there are a lot more characters I could've used?

Yeah, lots of questions, but I'll still leave some of the more _memorable _elements from this thread to the next. And, I'm also revising since I want to incorporate some -_A LOT- _of the tips MHR posted for writing. (It's on my profile. Do give it a read!)

And also, the reason I've been MIA is because, I moved. _AGAIN. _

Pretty long Author's note! I think it's even longer than this chapter. Hahahaha!

Oh! I'm planning on changing my pen name... Yay or nay?

_'When you finally let go of the past, something better comes along.'_

JA~

-GT.


	2. Silent Love Song

Hello! Greentulip here!

Ahah, chapter two of Bella Luna!

And, I am proud to say that my writer's block is steadily lifting (or I'm steadily driving around it, whichever floats your boat, of course.)

I don't know if the violence in this chapter is THAT extreme to be worthy of an 'M' rating. Meh, if you think otherwise, please inform me!

Well, with that said, on with the show!

**DISCLAIMED.**

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><p>"Mama? Why am I leaving tomorrow?" A blonde-haired boy, no older than five, walked beside his mother, holding her effeminate hand, as they neared the door of their home.<p>

The woman crouched down in front of the boy, a strained smile tugging on her lips.

"Because—"

'_You're a demon! An abomination!'_ the woman inwardly sneered.

The boy's eyes snapped to their linked hands and cowered away.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

"I'm not a demon…" He whispered.

"What are you talking about?" The woman's words flew out of her mouth as if it were a well-rehearsed line, her hand touching the boy's shoulder.

'_I should've killed it when I had the chance.'_

"Mama?" The boy started stepping back.

The woman schooled her features as she realized she was glaring at the boy in sync with her thoughts.

"You're going away tomorrow to a special place, because mommy needs to go on a business trip for the weekend." She stated calmly.

The boy's chocolate orbs lit up.

"So does that mean I can go home—"

"NO!" The edges of the paper bag she was holding rustled with the wind as she slapped the little boy's hand, inching to grab her dress.

"I… What did I do wrong, mama?" The boy was staring at his trembling hands with his head bowed.

With that simple sentence,

She snapped.

The woman abruptly stood up, her expression twisting into a horrible sneer that marred her lovely heart-shaped face.

"You want to know what you did wrong?" She started pacing.

"…"

"DO YOU?" The woman stopped pacing as she bellowed, making the boy flinch.

"Y-y-yes, m-m-mama."

"Good." She then proceeded by roughly dragging him by his arm to the confines of their house.

The boy trembled as he tried to hold back tears that were caused by the coarse gravel scratching his sole-less person…

…And by the immense ache thumping in his chest.

The woman daintily set down the bag of groceries on an immaculate marble counter-top, then shoved the frightened child deeper into the kitchen, making him stumble head-on to a counter.

The gesture was not lost on the boy, as he tried to gather his bearings.

'_Fucking bastard.' _The woman mentally snarled.

The boy curled up into a fetal position as his 'mother' drove her foot into his abdomen.

"M-m-mama… P-please s-s-stop." The boy wheezed out.

"First off, _baby," _Her hands curled around the boy's shirt as she crouched in front of him. "-I am not your real mother. And never will be. Understood?" The woman spit in the boy's face before she dropped her hold on him and stood upright.

The boy managed a feeble nod as terror gripped his tiny heart.

"Second, once you leave tomorrow, you're never coming back." She smiled cheerfully.

"You're lying! Mama w-will n-n-never hurt me, n-n-never d-do this t-to me. This is a dream, this is a dream…" The boy rocked back and forth, eyes shut tight, head buried between his knees.

The woman chuckled. And if one were to look closely, a wicked glint twinkled in the woman's jade orbs.

"I assure you, _boy-_" She spit out the word like it was the vilest thing in the whole universe. "-That this is no dream."

There was faint shuffling as she sat on the counter above the boy's shoulder.

"Kokoro… Such a beautiful name for such a demonic child… I gave you that name, you know?" The boy continued rocking back and forth, muttering incoherent nothings under his breath; tears dropping like shards of crystals on the cold tiled floor.

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine. She died shortly after you were born, while I lost my fiancée to another woman some ways back…"

She paused, as if contemplating her next words.

"One day, I was on my way home from work when I was approached by a nice old lady," she said nonchalantly. "-she said I was listed as your guardian if something ever happened to both of your parents."

"Imagine my surprise when I heard that!" She guffawed mirthlessly. "The last time I've talked to either one of your parents were some ways back." She shrugged.

"They must've been pretty desperate and had no other choice to even consider me."

"I was happy, though, I thought that maybe; just maybe, I can get my life back on track. You were my little ball of sunshine. My life revolved around you, even after knowing your heritage, I still took you in; loved you like you were my own…" her voice took a melancholy turn as her eyes were glazed over.

"Yet, like every single thing in my life, you just had to be the spawn of fucking Satan! You drove away every person that even tried to talk to me. Saying their thoughts out loud like a broken record… I mean, who does that?" her arms trembled in barely restrained rage.

"Do you want to know your last name?"

The boy shook his head hastily, as he scampered towards a corner.

"Yome…" The woman laughed hysterically. "What a coincidence!" She said in faux-surprise. "That was the surname of my man-whore of a fiancé!"

She cast her crazed gaze over to the whimpering boy. "Tell me, _Koko-chan_, do you know where I work for a living?"

The boy didn't say anything; couldn't say anything.

Fear was paralyzing him, pinning him to the ground, making it harder and harder to breathe with each passing second.

"I help get information out of the bad guys…" She placed a finger on her chin, her head slightly tilted to the right "-with pain; lots and lots of pain." She pulled out a kitchen knife, manic enthusiasm radiating from her in waves.

A scream emanated throughout the house, followed by a hysterical cackle.

_-;-_

'_Whispers… Choppy whispers…'_

A boy no older than five trudged into a crowd of students that stared at him as he walked.

'_-Wh…-at… -Wr…-ong… -Hi...-m…'_

'_We…-ird…'_

As he walked amidst the verbally unheard whispering, he can't help but think about how it was just as worst, if not more so, than being outright pointed and laughed at.

Because sometimes, it was just easier to face a battalion when they're in front of you, rather than having them working underground and you're a sitting duck for easy picking.

The boy saw a jolt beside him, and flinched.

Hard.

He saw the incredulous looks pointed his way.

He saw the barely restrained laughter as he started picking up his pace.

He saw the faint curiosity being overrun by judgmental clouds labeling him as a freak.

He saw… No, he heard all of it.

But…

They didn't see what he did.

They didn't see how beneath the bandages that wrapped his right arm, were healing pink skin that was peeled back and yanked off.

And how underneath the layers of gauze around his head was a healing concussion that should have killed him.

They didn't hear what he did; the distant pained cries that he let out as if listening through a movie screen, followed by the chants of _'more', _and more did come; in the forms of howls of prolonged agony and shrieks of joy and insanity.

They'd never know what happened.

And he'd never know the permed haired girl that reached out in apology as he fleed.

Because the moment he shut his door, the torrent of thoughts stopped, as if a dam was put into use.

…He was vaguely aware that being alone in a room full of people; hearing how a constant battle raged in each person's mind was much better than being left to deal with the monsters of your own.

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><p>Chapter 1: Done!<p>

**Q.** How much time passed since pre-break and post-break? (**Break: -;-**)

**_A._** Mhm, around a week. After all, GA has amazing medics.

**Q.** How did Koko survive/escape?

**_A._** When his 'mom' snapped on him, after an hour or two, (so around six in the evening) people started coming back home (from work), heard, and went batshit crazy on 911 lines.

**Q. **What does 'Kokoro' mean?

**_A. _**Kokoro means: heart/mind/spirit

**Q.** Will this be Sumire/Koko?

**_A._** Sorry, hun. If you're looking for Sumire/Koko going a stage higher than friendship...  
>Hmmmmm, you know what? I think it will be <em>implied. <em>But, no promises!

_"Collect moments. Not things."_

JA~

-GT.


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